


Vengeance Is Mine, Sayeth Dean

by Zanne



Series: Possessed Car 'Verse [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanne/pseuds/Zanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks it's time for a little vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vengeance Is Mine, Sayeth Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by lyonie17. Kripke owns the Winchesters. (Originally posted: 1/1/07)

“Sammy….Saaamm-mmeeeeee,” a familiar lilting voice cut through his dreamscape. “Time to wake up, little brother.”

Sam grumbled low in his throat and tried to roll over onto his belly to ignore this distraction, only to discover four things: 1. his bed had gotten a lot less comfortable, 2. his hands were stuck to something, 3. he was naked, and 4. something heavy was on his stomach.

Sam warily opened his eyes to find himself less than comfortably situated on the hood of the Impala, his hands tied with rope to the side mirrors, and a very naked Dean perched on his bare belly.

Sam quickly scrunched his eyes shut. _Baseball…dead kittens…dead kittens playing baseball…._

“No, Sam,” Dean chastised, tapping his brother’s cheek with all of his big brother authority. “We’ve gotta talk.” Reluctantly, Sam opened his eyes, concentrating on Dean’s forehead with an unwavering intensity.

Dean leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of his brother’s head, looming over him with the full bulk of his body to ensure his attention. “You’ve been doing bad things to my car, Sam. Bad, bad things.” Dean grinned wickedly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s time for a little vengeance. Everything you’ve done to my car, I’m gonna do to you.”

Dean plucked at the rope restraining his brother. “I was tempted to use handcuffs, knowing how freakishly strong you Yeti-types are, but I didn’t want you scratching the paint.” He loomed up over his brother again, his face inches from Sam’s. “A word of warning, little brother. Hurt my car during any of this and I take it out of your hide.” With that, Dean sat back and cackled gleefully, slapping Sam’s naked flank.

Sam’s dick was already enjoying this situation far too much, with the feel of the cool lines of the Impala under his back and the warm weight of his brother on his belly. But, for form’s sake, he had to find out if his brother was possessed or not. “Christo,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Dean gazed down at him, his teeth gleaming ferally in his faintly tanned skin. “Nope, not possessed, little brother.” He leaned in to brush his lips over the shell of Sam’s ear as he whispered, “And neither is my car.”

Dean sat upright again, smirking down at his brother’s slight look of panic as he broadly gestured at his own body. “As you see, I’m performing my vengeance ritual skyclad, the best way to get in touch with nature’s forces, isn’t it? And your clothes were destroying the fung shooey so they had to go, as well.”

Dean leaned further over him, reaching for something over Sam’s head on the roof of the car, his semi-swollen dick getting temptingly closer to Sam’s mouth. Sam squeezed his eyes shut to avoid enticement. _Naked grandmas…baseball…dead kittens…naked grandmas playing baseball with dead kittens…._

Sam shrieked like a girl when the first icy drop hit his chest, his eyes popping open as he bucked a bit beneath Dean. “Hey-hey-hey!” Dean scolded. “Watch the hood!” Dean held a glittering ice cube between his forefinger and thumb, studying it thoughtfully as the sun’s early morning rays made it shine like a jewel. “I didn’t have any crystals handy…so I did my best to find a substitute. You like?”

Dean held it out for Sam to look at, a large drop of melting water collecting on the underside and expanding in size as the heat of the morning worked its magic. Sam’s eyes widened as the weight of the drop increased, answering to the inevitable call of gravity. Cold was not his favorite sensation. “Dean…no, Dean…DeanDeanDean, please…,” he whimpered pleadingly. Sam gritted his teeth as the icy water landed in the hollow of his chest, making his nipples harden as his skin pebbled in response.

“A little nippy today for you, Sam?” Dean chortled, casually sucking on the cube to keep it from leaking too freely.

Sam thunked his head back against the windshield, trying to catch his breath after the surprise of the first drop. _Alright, Dad taught us how to withstand torture techniques. If Dean wants to play, I can_ _take it…I think._ Sam reconsidered quickly when Dean started wriggling a bit too much, murmuring something about bony-ass hips on his freakishly lanky, Kong-sized brother... _if he just fuckin’ stops moving._

 _Naked dead baseball grandma kittens eating grapefruit!_

Dean trailed his cold fingers in random patterns over the canvas of Sam’s chest, watching the skin change in texture as his brother responded to his careful ministrations. He dragged the cube across Sam’s ribcage, observing the winter pale flesh turn pink from the icy water. Dean drew it teasingly over Sam’s nipples, keeping them at attention as the ice melted away from the intensity of Sam’s body heat, the liquid pooling in the hollow of his throat. Sam swallowed roughly, icy water trickling over along the sides of his neck, eliciting a full body shudder. “Too cold for you, Sam?” Dean asked tauntingly, ducking down to lap up the collected water with a broad sweep of his tongue. Sam groaned, another shiver wracking his frame for an entirely different reason.

Dean looked relatively pleased with this response and tossed the remnant of the ice cube aside, reaching up for something over Sam’s head again. “This,” he said dramatically, “is for all the salt I had to vacuum out of the car after one of your freak-outs.” With a grandiose flourish, Dean produced a saltshaker standing on the palm of his hand, brandishing a bottle of tequila with the other.

“Uh, Dean…,” Sam interrupted, or tried to as his obviously insane brother began to coat his damp chest with salt like he was a human margarita. Sam bucked, just a little, to get his attention. “Have you already had a bottle of that this morning? I’m just...uh…curious.”

Dean pouted theatrically, setting the shaker aside. “You think I’m drunk? You think I could drug you and then carry your heavy ass out here and tie you to the hood of my car while _drunk_? I let you have the last beer to make my nefarious scheme work! I practically slipped a disc getting you out here! This is my well-crafted and…honed…and strategic plan of vengeance! This is evil genius here, Sam, and I don’t think you’re appreciating it!” Dean got that _I’ll-show-you_ look on his face and shoved a lemon wedge into Sam’s mouth. “Now shut up.” With that, he shimmied down Sam’s body and poured a liberal amount of tequila in Sam’s belly button until it formed a pale pool in the flat of his brother’s stomach.

Sam sucked his breath in sharply, the tequila rippling faintly as his body trembled with anticipation. _OK…not possessed…insanity still a very likely possibility…or else I’ve been a very good boy this year and Santa came early._ He winced as Dean slurped loudly at the liquid warming his skin before trailing his tongue up the line of Sam’s body, licking up the salt like a cat with cream. _…if I don’t_ _first…deadKITTENS…._

With his body nearly perfectly aligned with Sam’s beneath him, Dean dragged the tip of his tongue up Sam’s throat and drew it up with a curl off his chin… _like a not-dead kitten_ , Sam thought randomly...before darting in with surprising quickness to meld his lips to Sam’s, using his nearly prehensile tongue to scoop the lemon wedge out of Sam’s mouth.

 _Whoa…._ Sam blinked owlishly at the unique taste of lemon-flavored, tequila marinated Dean-tongue as his brother grinned down at him like a contented monkey, the lemon rind still covering his teeth. Dean spat it over the side of the car, sliding back down into position over his brother. “I can tie a double knot in a cherry stem, ya know,” he bragged good-naturedly, before leaning in to nip at Sam’s lower lip. Sam craned his neck up to capture Dean’s mouth as best he could, needing another taste of his brother.

Dean evaded him smoothly, laughter rumbling deep in his chest as he lapped up the line of Sam’s throat before liberally applying more salt. Dean authoritatively told Sam, “Open up, but don’t swallow.” With an eyebrow arched inquisitively, Sam obeyed, disappointed when the taste of tequila washed over his tongue. With a languorous stretch, Dean again met his mouth, using the suction to drink from his brother as his lower body rubbed deliciously against Sam’s. Sam whimpered, spilling tequila over his cheeks and making Dean snort with amusement, leading to a sputtering coughing fit as Dean tried to collect himself. “Shit, Sam. Keep still! You drown me and you’re stuck here until someone comes to untie you.” Dean grinned maliciously, “And Bobby won’t be back for another week.” Sam nodded mutely, his tongue running over his lips seeking the mingled taste of tequila and Dean.

Dean carefully screwed the cap back on the bottle before flinging it aside. “Too dangerous to our health. I want to live through this.” Dean sat back in his usual spot low on Sam’s belly, running his fingers absently up and down his brother’s sides, making Sam squirm to try to keep from giggling. “Now that chicken stunt you pulled…that was classic. But chicken was not suitable for this mission. I looted Bobby’s pantry and he had _nada_ – no whipped cream, no chocolate sauce, nothing! That man needs to learn to experiment,” Dean pouted, before breaking into a lecherous grin. “But I did discover this!” With another flourish fit for kiddie magicians at birthday parties, Dean proudly flashed his find.

“Spray cheese?” Sam yelped, thunking his head back against the windshield again. _Ow._ “Are you serious, Dean?”

Dean frowned at it thoughtfully. “You’re right. The chemicals in it might eat through my baby.” Dean tossed it to join the rest of the detritus surrounding the car, lovingly running a hand over the sheen of the Impala’s hood alongside Sam’s body as he murmured reassurances under his breath.

Sam rolled his eyes, bucking once more to regain his brother’s attention. “Dean, you’re…cooing…at the _car_.”

Dean snorted. “Jealous? I haven’t cooed at you since you were four.” He leaned over Sam once more, his swollen cock even more tempting as Sam considered taking his frustration out on Dean with his teeth. _But if I do that, he_ **_will_** _use the spray cheese with no mercy_.

“Blessed oils, Sam,” Dean stated matter-of-factly, settling back on his brother’s lap. “Blessed oils are a menace to a car’s longevity.” Dean’s mouth made a little moue as he studied the bottle in his hand. “It can take hours to get this shit off a car’s…oh, let’s say…bumpers.” He glared pointedly at Sam, who did his best to look contrite while surreptitiously trying to tilt his hips up to rub his hardened cock against the curve of his brother’s ass. “And enough with the hips, Shakira, before I slap you one.”

Sam relaxed his taught muscles with a groan, knowing Dean was going to take his sweet time no matter what. _Next time, I use the teeth._ “I’m at your mercy, all powerful one,” Sam responded dryly.

Dean smiled brightly. “Now you’re gettin’ it, college boy,” he replied, scooting further back on Sam’s thighs.

“About fuckin’ time,” Sam muttered under his breath. Dean barked a laugh, coating his palm with oil and tracing it along the ridges defining his brother’s abs.

Dean began reciting a rhythmic murmur, soothing to Sam’s nerves after all the teasing his body had taken that morning. However, as his brother smoothed the oil along the crease of his thigh, something clicked in his brain. “Dude, is that Metallica?” he asked breathlessly, disbelief… _no, not lust_ … deepening his voice as Dean’s hand swept up his shaft.

Dean gazed up at him under hooded lids, making Sam bite back a moan and burn this moment into his brain – the sight of Dean straddling his thighs, his brother’s pale skin gleaming along the sun-brightened black metal ocean of the Impala’s hood, his dick in Dean’s tight grasp as the glow of the late morning April sun seeped around his brother’s body. “Dude, you are not seriously berating my musical taste when I have your dick in my hand, are you?”

“Yes,” Sam retorted… _NO!_ his dick screamed…arching his hips up just a little.

Dean arched an eyebrow at his brother, opening his grip to grasp his own dick along with Sam’s. Dean leaned forward on his knees to take his weight off his brother’s legs, pushing forward into his hand as the friction of Sam’s length rubbing smoothly against his pulled a groan from the depths of his throat.

 _Screw the rules_ , Sam thought wildly, bucking his hips up to get more friction against his aching cock. At the feel of his brother rearing beneath him, Dean bit back a howl, his neck cording with the tightening of his muscles in response as he spilled his enjoyment across Sam’s oil slick skin before collapsing gently alongside his brother’s body.

“Thank you, baby,” Dean murmured affectionately as he rolled onto his back, almost purring like a kitten as he writhed wantonly against the warmth of the car’s hood.

“Uh, Dean?” Sam asked, tilting his head to look down at his brother. “Was that aimed at me or the car?”

“Um….” Dean’s eyes widened slightly as he slid off the hood, ready to beat a hasty retreat towards the house.

“What the fuck! Dean! Where are you going?” Sam demanded impatiently, refusing to be distracted by his brother’s backside. _He’s doing it on purpose and it’s not gonna work…this time. It’s not. Really._ “At least help me out here?” he asked plaintively, as he nodded with obvious irritation at his still throbbing cock.

Dean paused, smirking with his trademark smart-ass charm, his gaze traveling slowly over Sam’s body sprawled on the hood of his car. “I don’t think so.”

“I meant to untie me!” Sam grumbled with a deepening blush.

Dean put his hands on his hips, making Sam cough back a growling laugh at his Peter Pan pose. _The boy who will never grow up, indeed._ “Sam,” Dean said with obvious disappointment. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing all these years, but if you’re able to have full-on sex on the hood of a car without denting it, then you’ve been doing something wrong. And people of your freakish proportions with more elbows and knees than the rest of humankind need to be careful around delicate machinery like my car.” Dean tsked disapprovingly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Besides, you’re being punished, remember? What did you think this was – a free E-ticket ride?” Dean glanced up at the sun as if gauging the time, before tauntingly holding up the bottle of “blessed oil” he had just liberally applied to portions of his brother’s body. “Sunblock.” He flashed his teeth at Sam with a predatory grin, tossing him a wink. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours. If you get free before then, maybe we’ll have a more _friendly_ chat.”

Dean ambled back towards the house, laughing freely, the sound making Sam’s pulse pound more sharply in his groin. _Pure evil_ , Sam thought ruefully, tugging sharply on his restraints. “Deeeeeaaaannnn! I’m gonna nail your ass for this!”

“If you’re lucky, Sam,” came the faint call from the porch followed by another gleeful cackle, before the slamming of the door abruptly ended Sam’s chance for release… _on any account_.  



End file.
